Lead in Her Soul
by Traumaddict
Summary: Naruto and Sasuke are severely injured during a random assault by missing-nin, almost tearing Sakura's world apart in the process.


Lead in Her Soul

The sun was sinking when she finally reached their ward, and offhandedly, she wondered if that was supposed to be symbolic or something. She could almost hear her mother's patronising comments, echoing through the hallowed halls of a hospital she barely shook free of, and the begrudging life lessons that accompanied them.

The ward was centred in the Uchiha's private branch. It was one of the busiest sections in the facility, second best to only the Hyūga clan, whom even laboured their children like mongrels. Non-Uchiha patient entry was strictly forbidden but Naruto had always been an exception. Mikoto and her husband had always favoured him. As such, the friendship between him and Sasuke had been instantaneous; the kind of bond that knew no end. Naruto had gained a brother that day, two even, if Itachi was concerned. She had come later on, throughout their genin years, and under the guidance of Kakashi, the trio had been relatively inseparable until their late adolescence.

Their pathways had spun off in wild directions at this point: Naruto had travelled with Jiraiya, sharpening his prowess as a shinobi, whilst the clan soaked as much of Sasuke's time and effort as humanely possible. Sakura, herself, preoccupied herself with medicinal training, having been taken under Tsunade's wing. It was a mind-numbing few years, one which robbed her of the youth she had been promised if she had abandoned her dream to become a kunoichi. She didn't mind, however, and the distraction had soothed the ache that the absence of her boys had made. Now in their twenties, that particular sorrow had lessened but not vanished. Not entirely, anyway. She still felt it during her night shifts, when the majority of her staff had retired for the evening and she alone flitted between the wards, tending to the injured, sick and dying.

The weight of it was lead in her soul.

She sighed as she entered the room, cracking the door just wide enough for her slim girth. Itachi, as she had expected, had already stationed himself on Sasuke's bedside, but had conveniently left the seat between the beds empty. She smiled her gratitude at him as she collapsed into the plastic abomination and tried not to think too hard about their slow heart-rate or the IV wires twisting away from their thick wrists. The bruising on their faces was thorough but she could still see the men she loved beneath the blotchy contusions. One, with his fair complexion and angled face, was traditionally handsome while the other, coloured like summertime, was harnessed sunshine. Seeing their bodies bruised and their personas muted made the grief in her chest all the more dominant.

"What was the doctor's diagnosis?" she asked, fighting back the tears.

"It could be worse," he said. She heard, rather saw, him cross his arms over his chest. "They both sustained internal haemorrhaging and numerous external contusions. Naruto's wrist was shattered entirely but with enough physiotherapy, there is a good chance he will be able to use it again. The joint in his left knee was severely damaged and the chances of him walking and even returning to the field are almost definite. Sasuke might need to learn to rely on his left side a bit more because the muscle damage in his right shoulder is considerable, but returning to the field is just as likely. The katana pierced them both."

Sakura listened to Itachi's sullen voice, his tenor a comfort she didn't know he could offer, and leaned over Naruto's body first. She pressed light, butterfly kisses to his forehead and squeezed his fingers, relieved to learn that his dream hadn't been stolen from him so close to the finishing line. She wanted him to thrive, to change the flawed shinobi system, because he was the only person who could. Reluctantly pulling away with a silent vow on her tongue, she turned her attention to Sasuke—he was always the brisk breeze to Naruto's simmering sunlight, but he had never been this cool, never brushed this close to death. She cupped his face with trembling hands, hating that his eyelids were shadowed and purple.

"It could be worse," she agreed, echoing the older male.

There was a long pause before he decided to speak again, and even then, she almost didn't catch his soft observation: "This isn't your fault, Sakura."

She drifted between them, dividing her attention evenly, and replied with a clipped: "But, it is."

Itachi stood then and the suddenness of his actions startled Sakura. She jerked away from Sasuke and stared up at her teammate's brother with unshed tears in her eyes. His arms were slack at his sides and his stance was relaxed, but the line of his shoulders was rigid and tight, like a cobra coiled, preparing to strike. Instead of attacking, he sighed and tugged a frustrated hand through his hair which was, uncharacteristically enough, down around his shoulders in a spill of damp, straight ink. "No, it's not. They're fully capable shinobi, Sakura. What happened wasn't anyone's fault; they were outnumbered and worn down from their mission."

"I should've gone with them," she insisted.

"You were in Suna, doing another mission," he reminded her, placing his hands high along her arms. Her bare skin was clammy under his calluses and her forehead was beaded with sweat, probably because she had pushed herself too hard during the return trip. "Can you imagine what it would have been like if this had happened in reverse? If it was _you_ who was attacked and it was _them _having this conversation with me. They wouldn't want you to feel like this, to shoulder the blame that doesn't belong to you."

Sakura looked past Itachi and stared at his brother lying behind him, then stared over her shoulder at Naruto. He was right, of course. He was rarely ever wrong, but shaking the guilt almost seemed too hard. "I don't know what I would have done if I had lost them. They saved me from the kind of loneliness that just eats away at you, inch by inch, until it's finally consumed you."

He raised his palm and gently, almost like a lover's caress, cupped her face. She had never known him to be tender, even during their short-lived courtship, and that knowledge seemed to dig the ache in her soul even deeper. "They're your salvation, I know."

She stepped into his arms then, silently willing him to hold her in the kind of embrace that only he had ever been able to provide. He smelt like pine and grass when she pressed her forehead to his collarbone, the scent coming to block out the hospital's harsher, disinfectant odour. Itachi didn't respond immediately and stood there, not in shock, but contemplation as he mulled what to do. He conceded, eventually, and wrapped his appendages around her smaller build. She was warm against him, soft in a way only a woman could be soft, and despite it all, unbearably _lonely_. He had realised early on that she was nothing without the other thirds of Team Seven, that her entire existence was tethered to the lives of two extraordinary shinobi. It's what made him cancel the courtship in the first place, disappointing both his parents and hers. But he knew he couldn't compete with that kind of devotion, even if she did come to love him back.

* * *

><p><em>So, this particular fic was inspired by the prompt "they saved me from my loneliness." It is a one-shot but is part of a collection of one-shots called "they saved me from my loneliness." However, bear in mind that these fics are all derived from the same prompt, and are by no means, connected by fandom. So, the next installment to this particular collection could be from any other fandom I see fit, not just the Naruto Shippuden one. Such is the way my mind and my tendencies work. I hope readers have enjoyed this and I hope even more that reviews will be written for my hard work. Farewell, dear readers, until next time.<em>

_- Traumaddict_


End file.
